


Out of Gas

by fellSans



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Other, Sleeping in the Impala, out of gas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellSans/pseuds/fellSans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly long and weird hunt in northern Washington, the boys run out of gas on the side of the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Gas

**Author's Note:**

> This is short and will have a continuation later on part of a story project I want to do called the Impala Diaries in which I write these sorts of short snippets about what happened between the hunts before their time in the bunker.

“What do you mean we’re out of gas?”  
Sam Winchester stood on a dark, winding road that meandered through a dense pine forest somewhere in northern Washington with his hands on his hips. He had this, strange look on his face like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.  
“I mean we’re out of gas Sam, what the hell else is it supposed to mean?” Dean threw his hands up and looked back at Sam with a bit of a frown. He walked over to the trunk and rummaged around the non-weapon’s locker level of the Impala’s trunk, he had an emergency can of gas stashed in by his set of tools. Of course, the can was nowhere to be found. “Looks like we’re stuck unless one of us wants to spend the rest of the night walking five miles to bum fuck nowhere.”  
Sam shook his head and shoved his hands into the pocket of his day old jeans. “Dude, I am not walking five miles back to that town, it gave me the creeps even after we took care of those ghosts.”  
“What do you suggest then Sam, we call up Bobby and ask ‘Hey Bobby, care to drive up to Washington and bring us some gas and maybe a couple of beers?’ We can’t even get signal in these damn woods.”  
“I don’t know, wait here for the night and walk in the morning? Cause I don’t know about you Dean but for once I’m about ready to pass out here on the side of the road.” Dean raised his eyebrows and shrugged, what he really wanted was a warm bed and a nice hot shower but if Sam was fine with waiting here for the night he was ok with it. He walked around to the driver’s door and slid back into his Baby’s soft seating. Sam followed suit and hopped back into the car pulling a bag of healthy trailmix from his jacket pocket.  
“Trail mix? Really? When the hell did you get trail mix?”  
“Back in that town, I thought I might stock up just in case.”  
Dean had this, you’ve got to be kidding me, look on his face and Sam shrugged before shoving a few pecans in his mouth. He shook his head and put the seat back as far as it would go before locking the doors and trying to get as comfortable as he could. This wasn’t the first or last time the Winchesters would sleep in the Impala, it was more or less the only home the two brothers had. It got them through so much and even though it was only a car, it was really the only thing that was constant in either of their lives which they couldn’t even say about each other. While Sam munched down on his moose feed, Dean kept turning around a bit, trying to find that sweet spot that he could almost never find in the car’s seats. His mind kept running over the past few days, word of a strange set of deaths in Washington, people going insane after seeing their loved ones roaming the houses again... Definitely something they could take care of and since they were already driving up into Washington as it was, they figured pop in, gank some ghosts, burn some corpses and bam, be out in a day. What they didn’t count on was 30 ghosts that were all part of some freak accident in their local saw mill each with their own reason to haunt people’s asses and try and kill anyone that got in their way. It took them three extra days of hunting for what was left of the victims before they were finished and both of them were exhausted beyond measure. Eventually, Sam stopped munching and shoved his trail mix back into his pocket.  
“Night Dean.” He flipped the passenger seat down and rolled toward the window much like Dean did.  
...Dean took a few seconds before he replied with a simple, “Night Sammy.” And closed his eyes.


End file.
